In the Wings
by vine
Summary: They were the hushed conversations in the wings, waiting to go on stage. Just to distract yourself from the clenching in your stomach. A metaphor. And metaphors are important. Everything that matters happens on the stage anyway. Right? Drabbles.
1. Favorite Songs

A/N: This is a warm-up piece, to stretch my limbs in a new fandom. Please, any comment would be greatly appreciated. If you think I'm killing the characters, tell me. I'll try and fix it.

This will be a collection of short one-shots, and I'm taking requests. A couple, or a certain character... whatever strikes your fancy.

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One: 'What is your favorite song?'

Rachel had a strict schedule to her songs.

It left no time for guesswork, as her camera waited patiently for her. Oh no. No camera would have to wait for her.

There was nothing whimsical in her choices, either. She chose songs from musicals and the radio, picked out because of a note there, a chorus here. If if it were singable, she would try. And she would succeed. Because she was Rachel Berry. A star. And stars had to be diverse.

This was why, when Finn asked her what kind of music she listened to, she answered with her usual promptness.

"Everything, mostly." She tried to focus on the notes in front of her, a new song Mr. Shue wanted her to look at as a Regional possibility. With Finn sitting next to her, making small conversation as they waited for the rest of the New Directions kids to show up, it was proving to be very difficult.

Finn smiled, and Rachel's heart skipped a beat, though that had to be just her imagination. This wasn't some romance novel that she would never admit to reading. Anyway, just like any proper play, everything between them happened on the stage. In this metaphor, they were merely waiting in the wings at the moment.

"You can't listen to everything mostly. That doesn't even make sense. What's your favorite song?"

Just the question made Rachel tense up. "I don't have one." To beat the silence that was sure to come, she followed her answer with a hurried "And you?"

Later, she would assure herself that it was only the dark lighting in the theater that made it appear as if he were blushing. "I don't know. I like a lot of old stuff. Can't Fight This Feeling is near the top-"

The door creaked open, and both of them jumped, as the other members of New Directions crowded into the theater. If any of them thought the two leads looked guilty about something, they kept it to themselves. Even Kurt refrained from any comment other than a raised eyebrow, which was easily ignored by both Finn and Rachel. They had nothing to be guilty of.

Except for heightened pulses and flushed faces, of course. But this was something that Finn could hide and Rachel could wish away. Their conversation had been a small thing. Nothing important. Only nervous chatter in the wings.

Still, at home that night, listening to Finn's favorite song again (it was necessary, she tried to tell herself, to understand the tastes of the others in the group. Finn was just the first on her list. Right), Rachel couldn't help but begin to draw comparisons between the lyrics and (maybe?) her and a boy she knew.

Setting up her camera, she checked her schedule. Not that she needed to. She already knew that today, she had been planning to A Change in Me. A good song. But not her favorite.

Maybe breaking the routine would be good for her. This was the first excuse that came to mind, and she stuck to it. A true performer had to be ready for sudden changes, after all.

Rachel closed her eyes, and pretended Finn was beside her, as she sang their favorite song.


	2. All Right

Two: 'Are you all right?'

Quinn glared at her reflection in the mirror, and forced the offending out-of-place hair back behind her ear. There. Perfect again. Just in time to go off to the freakshow.

Her heels echoed in the emptying halls, as she headed to the theater. Not needing to pay attention to those in front of her- they would get out of her way- she instead ran through the conversation that was the reason she was in this sorry little club in the first place.

Coach wanted them out, and Quinn was only too happy to oblige. A picture, much too clear for her liking, flashed across her mind's eye. Finn and That Girl, holding each other and looking for all the world as if nothing else mattered. It made her sick to her stomach.

Sometimes, late at night, hidden in her room as she allowed her shoulders to relax, she closed her eyes, and her memories would replay that afternoon's practice. During those times, she could admit that they sounded beautiful together, two smooth voices flowing into each other as they filled each other's gaps. All Quinn could hope for with Finn was that her sharp plastic edges didn't bruise him too harshly.

Rachel bit her lip, and straightened her shoulders, pulling the muscles even tighter. This was not what she wanted to be thinking about at the moment, her hand resting on the handle of a theater door. No. And this feeling. this digging at the bottom of her stomach? Nothing at all like guilt for betraying something she had never wanted to be a part of.

She was never supposed to enjoy it. And she didn't. But being a part of a well-oiled machine was a familiar feeling to her. The singing just made it all seem- better, somehow. More like an art, less like the precise science that was the cheerleading squad.

"Quinn?"

Scowl already in place, she turned. "What?"

For a moment, there was confusion. Then she let her gaze drop to meet the eyes of the wheelchair kid. She looked away quickly. There was something about his eyes that unsettled her.

"You've been standing there for a while." There was a pause, as if he were considering whether his next sentence was worth it. "Are you all right?"

If it had been anyone else, such as the stuttering freak, or the gay boy or the di-va, or That Girl, she would have thrown out a painfully sharp remark, and nothing would have changed. But there was something about this boy's gaze- so easy to read, even behind those ridiculously thick glasses- that made her bite her tongue.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

He shrugged, not seeming to catch the frost in her tone. "That's what I was asking."

A exasperated sigh. He was so frustrating! To get away from him more than anything, Quinn yanked the door open and stormed through. There was the sound of his wheels rolling across the linoleum as he hurried to slip inside before the door swung shut again. Judging by the silence that followed, she guessed that he had made it.

And since when has she been able to pinpoint the sound of his wheels? A part of her mind wanted to know. But the rest of her mind was not interested in such a inconsequential answer. Or so she told herself.

That Girl was already there, head bent over a pile of sheets that was sure to be another complicated arrangement of voices and dance steps. Quinn tried to convince herself that the feeling in her stomach was one of annoyance, and not excitement for trying something new and challenging.

Puck entered then, from another door. He tried to catch her eye, but she avoided him by taking that moment to deposit her bag on the floor. He probably wanted to talk to her about some plot or another, and she was not in the mood.

"What are you doing?"

Quinn's head shot up again at the sound of her boyfriend's voice, only to realize that he hadn't been talking to her. He was already next to That Girl, peering over her shoulder at the notes. They were already conversing, in hushed voices that she couldn't quite hear.

He hadn't even seen her.

That was it. She was done.

Leaving her bag abandoned on the floor, she turned on her heel, heading out the way she had come. Sidestepping the wheelchair kid- didn't he realize he was in the way?- she shoved open the door and stormed out and down the hallway.

Any moment now, there would be running footsteps behind her, and his voice would ring out, calling her name. But that shout never came, so she kept walking. The halls were completely empty now, so it didn't matter where she went.

When she reached her locker, all the way down on the other side of the school, she slid down to the floor beside it and took a few deep breaths. They didn't help.

An angry swipe of the hand got rid of anything that might have been tears. But that stupid hair had fallen out of place again. Her hand raised to pull it back, but froze when she heard someone call out her name.

A familiar sound accompanied it, and her eyes began to water. Stupid. She rubbed furiously at them, and tried not to look disappointed when the wheelchair rounded the corner.

"Sorry," he said. "You walk really fast."

He had no reason to apologize. If anything, it should be her apologizing to him. But regret wasn't something Quinn liked to dwell on, and apologies for the freaks did not fit in her image.

"And?"

"And I was wondering if you're all right."

Poor, innocent boy. If it had been anyone else- but no. It was him, and Quinn was tired at being a bitch to people who were just trying to help.

"I'm fine, Artie." She stood, brushing nonexistent dirt off of her spotless uniform, tucking the hair behind her ear. "I'll be there in a minute, okay?"

"I can wait."

She glanced at him, thrown off guard by the double meaning that (may or may not) have been in that sentence. In her shock, she locked gazes with him for much longer than she meant to, and looked away as she felt the slightest touch of heat tint her cheeks. Maybe she had walked here faster than she thought. Yes. A decent excuse.

"Yes." Quinn's voice sounded off, even to her, and she tried to avoid looking at the boy as she strode past him, heading back to the boyfriend she was beginning to not know, and That Girl she was beginning to envy. Back to the group of misfits that, if she allowed herself to admit it, she was beginning to wish she was part of. Maybe she would stay with this Glee Club for a little while longer.

If she had chanced a glance at Artie's face, she might have been surprised by the triumphant grin that had spread across his face.

First name basis was as good a beginning as any.

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Well, that was really fun! A sort of subtle ArtieQuinn, though seeing as I had way more fun than I thought I would have reading that, expect to see more from that couple in the future. This chapter is for Violet-Shadow, who requested the couple. Hope you liked it!

As mentioned last chapter, I am taking requests, be they character, situation, couple, or even a question. (as you may have noticed, each chapter will hinge on a question)

Until next time!


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